“Relax, Quinten. They didn’t do anything to him and now our problems are solved. Now do what you need to do to empty those accounts before he has the chance to do whatever the hell he did again.”
“What incompetent motha fuckas did you find to do that shit for you?”
“I can’t give you that information. I promised them anonymity since they really didn’t want to be involved because of Quincy’s connection to Vincent,” he replied before a coughing fit hit him.
“Tell me who did it!” I growled, lowering myself to get in his face.
A bright bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and a deafening crack of thunder followed right behind it. The power in the house flickered twice before turning off. The low hum of the wall-powered oxygen machine died out, leaving the dark room silent.
My dad immediately reached out for the portable oxygen machine sitting on the back of his wheelchair next to the bed. I snatched that shit from his grasp and placed it just a few steps away.
“Quinten,” he coughed, his wheezing almost instantly intensifying.
“Who had the nuts to touch my son?”
“Tevin… he hired a few… few young niggas from Tampa to do it,” he coughed out, breathing hard as fuck.
“Son…” He muttered, reaching out for me, but I didn’t give a fuck.
The days of capitulating to his demands were over. As I watched him plead for my help, the sky brightened and the sunlight broke through the clouds, casting a sliver of light across the dark room.
“I’m going to watch you suffer in your last minutes. I’ve deprived perfectly healthy niggas of oxygen before, and it didn’t take long for them to clock out. In your physical condition I’m sure it’ll be quicker,” I monotoned, leaning up against the wall across from him.
His eyes widened, and he maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed like he was going to get in his wheelchair. I swiftly leaned over his wheelchair and pushed the manual freewheel levers and rolled that bitch just out of his reach with a grin on my face.
“You are right. They didn’t hurt Quincy. Your precious Lil Q, on the other hand, was shot.”
My father’s eyes bucked as his chest heaved while he gasped for air. His lips were turning blue as he struggled to breathe. I went into their closet and rummaged around in the medical supplies until I found a fresh nasal cannula. With the lightweight tube in hand, I went back into the bedroom that was fully lit up by the sun like it wasn’t just storming a few minutes ago.
There was a spa I paid for Marissa and Karina to go to once that had an oxygen bar. They said the higher levels of oxygen were supposed to reduce stress, and this nigga had stressed me for forty-eight years. His eyes followed me as I returned to the room and changed out the nasal tube. I could feel his spirits lifting until I sat in his wheelchair, positioned the two tubes into my nose, and turned on the portable oxygen machine. I breathed regularly while checking my text messages. As my father stated, Quincy was safely with Marissa, and a few of my men were on their way to Tevin’s house. It made sense that he didn’t answer his phone while the men were getting together to head out last night.
“Refreshing,” I nodded after a few minutes on the oxygen.
My father slowly lifted his right hand and I swatted it away. He started wheezing harder, a raw, broken sound clawed its way out of his throat. I stared into his eyes still breathing in the oxygen.
“Oh, and before you die, I want you to go to hell knowing that Lil Q won’t ever claim that seat like you desperately wanted. As soon as everybody learns that you’re dead, I’m going to tell themKarmello can have it. You cheated Jamell and Jerrod out of their chance to run shit, and I’m going to make that shit right.”
At my revelation, his watery sunken eyes widened with fury. His chest heaved as he fought to breathe. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes told me everything. “Over your dead body, huh? I know. That’ll be soon,” I taunted.
His lips parted, and I heard one final wheeze before his eyes widened with fear, and the faint hum of the oxygen machine was the only sound in the room. I took a few minutes to place the nasal tubes attached to the wall-powered oxygen machine back in my father’s nose, returned his chair back to its position, and lifted the manual freewheel levers. Just to be on the safe side, I put his dirty cannula back on the portable oxygen machine and took my own with me as I left the house.
On the short drive to where Tevin was being transported, I hadFather Timeby Kendrick Lamar playing to the max. This song always hit because I knew I had daddy issues, but what the fuck I look like admitting that? This song was the closest I’d ever get to dealing with the shit I’ve been through. I pulled up as they pulled Tevin out of the trunk of a bucket. Tevin was putting up a fight, digging his feet into the dirt path, sending clouds of dust up in all directions.
“Damn. I just had some oxygen therapy, and you fucking my shit up already,” I complained, waving the dust out of my face.
Duct tape covered his mouth and I preferred it that way. I didn’t want to hear any begging from his disloyal ass. I put him on and he crossed me in the worst way. My father wasn’t all bad. He gave advice that only a strategic mafia boss could. He always told me to kill a motha fucka where they disrespect you at. If I would’ve blown Tevin’s head off the day Yaseer shot me, we probably wouldn’t be going through none of this shit.
They pulled Tevin into the dimly lit warehouse kicking and murmuring through the duct tape. The tarp was already laid out on the floor of the kill room when we stepped inside.
“Take that shit off his mouth,” I ordered. “How were you communicating with the niggas you hired to kidnap my son?”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“Go find his daughter, Nicki,” I barked at no one in particular, but feet immediately started shuffling against the cold concrete floors behind me.
“Wait man!”
“Talk quick. You crossed the line and fucked with my seeds. I’ll happily do her like she’s just another bitch on the streets,” I threatened.
